


Lumière Des Étoiles(Jeffmads story)

by gloriousdae



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: ITS A MODERN AU, It's gonna be hella gay, It's gonna get to have feelings, James is gay for his bestie, Love triangles are fun, M/M, Martha Jefferson is dead and you'll be reminded that multiple times, So are all the Jefferson kids, There will be some references to self harm, Thomas is a gay ass mofo, Thomas is also hella homophobic, a lot of things like families and shit is changed, actually chapter two pretty much is gonna jump right into the suicide shit, although there will be no description of it, and if there is cutting there'll be very little of it, and there will be attempted suicide, enphases on the "try" because I suck, feelings are fucking weird tho, hopefully just references, i made thomas a depressed fucker so yeah, in the past and the story, james is gonna hate alex, james is like the mom friend but gayer, please feel free to comment if shit gets too real I'll try to cut back, sally hemmings isn't a thing, slaves aren't a thing in this story at all, thomas likes to piss James off and then cry about it, thomas will have to choose and he won't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9322889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousdae/pseuds/gloriousdae
Summary: Thomas Jefferson isn't a people person, he's a book person. Ever since he learned to read he decided books were better company than humans.James has always been an average person, not amazingly smart, but definitely not amazingly stupid either. He's always been able to get along with people, even though they aren't his favorite thing.These two hated each other, until seventh grade, when they became best friends over a secret Santa gift.It's now seven years after Thomas' wife's death, he just got back from Paris, and he's in worse shape than he was when he left, and James is the only person who can even try to make an impact on his friend.Oh and then Alexander Hamilton? That's gonna be a whole thing of it's own. Don't you worry.This is my first fan fiction about the founding fathers, so excuse any small fuck ups(although please tell me them!). And yeah, it might be shitty.Also, it's named after my favorite song Starlight by Muse, and I highly recommend you listen to it if you haven't already.





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas Jefferson and James Madison had been best friends since middle school, before that they hated each other.  
Thomas had always been a loud person, saying anything and everything that came to mind. He was stubborn. He didn't get along with anyone after simple small talk.  
James was quiet, kept most his thoughts to himself. It was easy to get him to agree. He was good at getting along with most anyone he spoke too.  
It was clear why they hated each other from first to seventh grade. They were polar opposites. James hated how Thomas would take any chance to argue, be it student or teacher. Thomas hated how James was so skilled at getting along with others.  
But there are opposites, and there is complementing. The two fit together like puzzle pieces. Thomas couldn't always jump to fight, he needed someone to keep him in check, James was that calming he needed. James never liked speaking up or sharing his opinions, but he had a lot of good ones, Thomas was good at getting James to speak up and share his opinions. And when it came to people, James was the only one Thomas enjoyed the company with after the small talk.  
There was something that switched during Christmas break of seventh grade. Their class was doing secret Santa and James had pulled Thomas' name. He didn't know what to get him, no one knew the boy, so James was left to get along with Thomas. They did. As soon as the intentions weren't to put up walls around the other, as soon as both wanted to communicate things clicked into place, every piece building around them. James learned Thomas loved learning about other countries, especially France, so he got him a book on places in the country that were over looked by tourist. Thomas treasured the book, not knowing, not connecting the dots, as to who could've known to get him that, he only spoke to James for five minutes, they revealed the secret Santas when school started again in January, Thomas was more than amazed that it was James who got it for him.  
After that, they were best friends, both smart, but Thomas smarter, both ambitious, but Thomas more so, James thought there was nothing he was better at compared to Thomas, there was no one better than Thomas, only those who got dangerously close.  
There was so much James loved, admired, and envied about Thomas. While there were things Thomas loved about James, maybe one or two he envied and admired, but not a list as long as James'.  
The two grew up together, sure they were young adults when they became friends, but they grew as people as soon as they had each other. They helped each other, James helped calm Thomas' fiery spirit, Thomas helped James abandon his shell.  
The only thing James was better at compared to Thomas was being a friend. James was always there, when he spoke it was thought out, maybe not always what Thomas wanted to hear, but what he needed. Even if Thomas was in another country James would answer the phone to talk, even though it was three in the morning. While Thomas was nothing like that, he was there, but not all the time, he never knew what to say, he just spoke, rarely thought out his words.

When the two were in their mid-twenties Thomas met Martha, someone who had just as fiery a spirit as Thomas, matched his intelligence, and even more stubborn. Two years and many debates later the two married, they were happy, while James remained unmarried. Another thing Thomas was better at, women, understanding them, getting them.  
A year after marriage their first child was born, Jane, she lived to be one, but died for reasons doctors could not figure out, she was happy the night before, but when Martha went to the crib the next morning her baby girl was gone. Two years after Jane's death, Peter was born, but he didn't make it to being five hours old. Five years later Lucy was born, she was a bright toddler, but her mother never got to see that.  
Martha wanted a child, but pregnancy made her weak, so after Lucy was born she was easy to get sick, four months later she got sick, the flu, something simple, but it killed her.  
Thomas was left heartbroken, he had Lucy, but not Martha. He also had James still. James was the one who helped Thomas with Lucy, but no one could help him with the loss of his wife. Two years later he went to work in Paris, leaving his daughter with a distant family member, but a year after he was gone he received a letter, his daughter had died, no one could tell him how. James tried to convince Thomas to come back home, that much loss would impact even the best of us, but Thomas refused, he went quiet, barley kept in touch with people in America for four years.  
Than he sent a simple email to James, he was coming home, would his friend meet him at the airport in New York? He knew hats where James worked now, just because Thomas didn't write didn't mean James didn't, James would sit and write an email to Thomas every Friday and Sunday, giving a recap of what he was up to, emailed him more often when Thomas actually responded. They would speak on the phone, but it became rarer and rarer the longer Thomas was in Paris.  
It was September first, Thomas was due to get off the plane any moment, but he wasn't, James had called him before he got on the plane, made sure he did, so when Thomas didn't show up in New York he was left worried. Nothing worried James like Thomas did. He spent the day calling Thomas over and over, trying to contact him, but Thomas never answered. It wasn't till the sixth that James was able to get off work for three days, and that morning he got on a plane to Virginia, he knew Thomas was in America, and Virginia where they lived before was the only place Thomas would be.


	2. Sourire Comme Tu Le Veux

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say the translation of the title "Sourire comme tu le veux" is "Smile like you mean it." Named after The Killers song

James had already spent ten minutes knocking on Thomas' front door, five minutes calling him as well, but there was no answers. James could see lights on, and that meant Thomas was home, he was very careful about turning lights off.  
"Thomas! I know you're home!" James called, he tried to sound serious but worry coated every word he spoke, every thought he had, even every movement he made. All was full of worry. Sure, in Paris Thomas ignored James, but never did when he was literally right there. James tried to open the door for the fourth time, it was locked, that was normal, Thomas always kept it locked if he could help it, every door and window leading to the world was kept shut, covered, and locked. Besides he never had a curtain on one window, the window of the room that was meant to be the bedroom for his children, he kept that window locked but never covered it. That's where James could see light from an upstairs hallway.  
James sighed and put his phone in his pocket, that plan clearly wasn't working, neither was knocking. But that was the only plan he had, if Thomas didn't let him in, he couldn't be there, and that was the problem. Thomas didn't let anyone in. That's why James was here in the first place. Thomas didn't let anyone in, besides him, James was the one and only living exception to Thomas' very anti-everything attitude. The others weren't around anymore. James shook his head, pushing that through out of his head, sure, he most definitely didn't care for Martha as much as Thomas so clearly did, but James and Martha had become rather good friends, and it hurt James when she died, but without her Thomas didn't have anyone, so James ignored his own hurt to help his best friend.  
Finally, after standing outside in the setting September for fifteen minutes, the front door was unlocked with a click that wouldn't have been heard if it wasn't for the quiet world, the amount of silence made the clicking lock sound like a gunshot, it actually caused James to jump slightly, just slightly. As soon as James saw Thomas he couldn't help but give a small smile, although still clearly worried. Why had Thomas been hiding in the first place? He spent four years of mostly hiding, an extra week shouldn't effect James, yet it did.  
"Thomas, you had me worried. Don't that again." James says simply, walking into the house.  
Thomas looked unusually happy, clearly it was fake, but that just meant he was still hiding. He never lied to James, well he had, but James could count all the times on one hand. Hiding, Thomas had become a natural at it, he could hid behind words, smiles, and most recently, Paris.  
"Do what?" Thomas asks in a rather innocent tone, James sighed, taking in his friend's full appearance.  
He didn't look very good, from the appearance of his clothes to his forced expression. His clothes were oddly formal, but yet he wore them in a careless manner. His eyes gave away the fake smile, the smile could be real to everyone, but James could read his eyes, and they were everything but happy. And then James noticed, he had a new accessory, a cane, one that looked like it came from a costume store, not one you'd use for an injury, but the way Thomas was leaning on it, it was clear Thomas had it for a reason. It took a second, but James remembered, a few weeks after Thomas got to Paris he broke his leg, it must be due to that.  
"Don't make me that worried again, and let up the act, it doesn't work on me." James says simply, then he was hugging Thomas, who didn't hug him back, so he quickly pulled away, "I've missed you, Thomas." He says, his small smile gone, he was even more worried about the man in front of him than he was when he was in another country.  
"I've missed you too, James." Thomas says, his fake smile falling, replaced by a frown that fit his face so much better, which was a shame, because he really did have a beautiful smile.  
"You said you'd call me when you landed." James says crossing his arms,  
"I forgot to." Thomas says all too quickly, like he had planned what to say, like he knew what James was going to say, like he was just quoting a script.  
"Thomas, you never forget a thing. At least nothing important." James says, after a moment he let his arms fall as Thomas was quiet, "should we stand in the entrance way? Or maybe go to the living room?" He adds,  
"Living room is fine." Thomas says, his voice sounded more distant than it had before.  
"Thomas, what's wrong?" James asks, leading the way to the living room and sitting on the couch, not really surprised when Thomas sat on a chair, he clearly wanted some space, even if it was a few feet.  
"Nothing." Thomas mumbles with a shrug, he wasn't looking at James, he was watching the ground with a focused eye, it was as if it'd attack if it felt it wasn't getting the right amount of attention.  
"Thomas Jefferson, answer me honestly." James says, Thomas shook his head silently, "what happened? That caused you to forget to call?"  
"Nothing happened. Can't I just forget something?" Thomas asks, his tone distant still, but harsh.  
"Thomas, I don't like guessing, so just tell me, so I don't have to guess." James says, he was sitting on the edge of the couch, he knew that Thomas wanted space, but he also knew he spent four years with plenty of space.  
Thomas was silent for a moment, James simply waited, if Thomas spent more than three minutes silent, James would say something. Thomas usually didn't need any longer than that to soft his thoughts and come up with a response, anything longer than three minutes had a higher chance of being a well thought out and convincing lie.  
"I didn't want to talk to you." Thomas says simply and quietly, James was a bit confused, a bit hurt, but mostly just more worried. Silence mad him concerned, but the reasons behind the silence just took every anxious feeling about his friend and multiplied it by ten.  
"Why not?" James asks, trying, luckily succeeding, at keeping the hurt from his tone,  
"I don't know," Thomas whispers, glancing up at James, glad his friend didn't seem to catch the look, although, James did but didn't mention it. "But I'm glad you're here..." he adds, this time he looked up and kept his eyes on James,  
"You do know, and normally I wouldn't push it, but last time I didn't push something that clearly bothered you and worried me this much, well, it almost didn't end well, so what is it?" James asks crossing his arms, the time he was referring to specifically was five years ago right before he left for France, although there were other small times when things went wrong that he could be referring to as well. That thought was painful. How many times had Thomas actually tried things, or said he would, or even hinted at it? James lost count. He knew his friend had tried to do something only twice, but the amount of times he said he would, the number was somewhere close to infinity.  
Thomas nods, and was silent again, soon reaching the three minute mark and passing it. James let him. He wouldn't usually, but Thomas did look like he was trying to say something, every few seconds he began to open his mouth to speak but closed it. "I'm sorry, James..." he finally whispered, five minutes after James spoke, his voice was quiet, barley a whisper, it was distant.  
"What're you sorry for, Thomas?" James asks, letting his arms fall again, concern consuming his tone and expression.  
"For everything." Thomas mumbles, it was still quiet, but slightly less distant.  
"Let's be more specific, okay? What's the thing you're the most sorry for?" James asks, the slight change in the distance to his tone was a bit calming, it meant he wasn't going to be hiding forever.  
"Not listening to you." Thomas whispers shaking his head, looking back at the ground, James was hesitant, but he reached out and took one of Thomas' hand, gently grazing his thumb over the back of Thomas' hand in a small circle. It was a simple action, a simple comforting action James used to do often, it'd been five years since he had, but it felt the same as it had then.  
The action was something James had been doing since the summer before eighth grade. The comfort did involve having to touch Thomas, which he usually hated physical contact, but it was just the amount that he could stand in large amounts, if he got uncomfortable he could quickly separate them, quickly end the contact, that's why James did it. They were at an art festival thing down town, there were hundreds of people, more than usual in the small town, the festival still happened to this day, it was a tourist destination. That summer Thomas got overwhelmed due to all the people, so James and him walked to the nearest public place that was empty of people, the cemetery. They hiked to the highest point and sat in silence, James soon had Thomas' hand, doing exactly what he was doing now. James was always there to help Thomas, to calm him.  
"I say a lot to you, what did you not listen to?" James asks, both had their eyes on their hands, neither wanting to look at the other.  
Thomas' thoughts were on one thing, James was the better friend. James was the one that was there. While he was the one that showed up when convenient to him.  
"You just want me to be safe and I.... I never try to be careful... it should be easy... you do so much... ask for so little... and I can't take care of myself... no... I go and do the opposite... I intentionally try and hurt myself... I'm so sorry, James..." Thomas spoke slowly, thinking through his every word, his voice still soft.  
"Thomas, what do you mean?" James asks, all his concern returning in every aspect possible.  
"I keep trying to hurt myself... and..." Thomas stopped and took a breath, "thank you for coming when you did... twenty minutes later... You wouldn't have had someone to answer the door." Thomas says shaking his head,  
"You tried... again? I thought we agreed?" James asks quickly, firmly, the agreement wasn't much, it was just, don't die at your own hand, James thought it was a reasonable request, but here was Thomas admitting he almost did it for the third time. "Okay, tell me what happened, then I'll judge." He adds calmly  
"I just couldn't get it in me to get to New York... I made it home... and I couldn't get it together to get to New York..." Thomas mumbles shaking his head, "I just... Martha... I thought maybe... if I don't go to New York... I thought I could go to Martha." His voice was barley audible anymore. Of course it was Martha, James thought, it always lead back to her anymore. Ever since Jane died it was always died back go Martha. Martha wasn't well, Martha wasn't happy, Martha wasn't this, wasn't that. It always went back to his best friend's wife.  
After Martha died Thomas found some of her old medication and tried to take it, he knew the effects it could have, but ignored them, well really he embraced them. Thomas didn't care, didn't seem to at least. He didn't care that he had his six month old daughter was crying in the other room. The man hesitated, he paused before taking the pills at the exact right moment, at the same time that James was knocking on the front door. It was a similar situation to only twenty minutes ago, James desperately trying to get Thomas to come open the door, but that was before he locked all doors, he had the back door open, so James got in that way. Otherwise, Thomas would've done it, wouldn't have opened the door. Lucy was crying louder, and James felt terrible, going to check on Thomas before the little girl, but he had both calmed down within an hour. James was more like a parent to the little girl than her actual father, Thomas wasn't able to take care of himself, let alone a child. James was happy to help, he didn't want anything to happen to either of them.  
"Thomas, you'll see her again one day, but please, just please don't make that day any closer than it has to be." James says, more he pleaded, he had said those words countless times before, and Thomas would always nod, acting like he understood it all, but then he'd do something that caused James to make the plea again, and the previous understanding was gone. The plea was useless, the plea wasn't enough anymore. The first time it worked for a while, the second it worked but not as long, by the third it was just words with no meaning. And the countless emails with the simple words were exactly as it was when it was spoken, worked two times, useless every time after that. "Are you really listening to me?" James asks, he got another nod, "good." James says with a nod of his own. "I know you love her. Trust me. I know you love her more than anything else in this world. I know you don't care if you live or not. I know all that. And you know I do care. I care wether you live or not. I care about you more than anyone else. You know that, right?" James asks, pausing, not continuing till he got a nod from Thomas, when he opened his mouth to speak, James continued, not letting Thomas talk yet. "And I can only assume you care about me too." Another pause, another nod. "Then why are you so persistent on leaving me? Who do I have to fuss over if you're gone? I know you want to be with Martha, with Jane, Peter, Lucy, I know that, but... if you were supposed to be, you would be, and forcing it, you're not only hurting yourself, you're hurting me, is that what it takes to get you to stop? Hurt me as well?" James words were soft, but he didn't mean them to be, he wanted to make it clear to Thomas for once. He needed to make it clear to him.  
Thomas shook his head this time, opening his mouth to deny the last question, but no words came out, he closed his mouth and thought for a moment. "That's... that's all true, except for the very last thing." He finally whispers. He pulled his hand away from James', he kept his eyes on James' hand though, who moved it to rest in his lap. "I would never want to hurt you, James, I could never do it intentionally." He says, his voice slightly louder.  
"I know, Thomas, I know that. Which is why I'm bringing it to your attention. Every single time you even joke about hurting yourself, it scares me, I can't stop thinking about it for hours afterward." James says, he moved his hand back to Thomas, but then pulled it back, resting it back in his lap.  
"I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't mean..."  
"You said that. But don't be sorry, just be more conscious about it." James says, not hesitating this time when he reached for Thomas' hand, gently holding it and circling his thumb over his knuckles.  
Thomas nods, not moving his hand away, honestly he was glad that, it gave him something to focus on, somewhere to keep his eyes. "Alright, Jimmy, I'll try." He promised, giving James' hand a soft squeeze.  
"Why don't you come sit beside me, my arm is already begging to grow tired." James says, gently pulling Thomas toward him, he didn't use his cane, it wasn't that far, but he limped the short distance from the chair to the couch, almost falling beside James but managing to sit properly. "Now that was slightly stupid." James says with the smallest smile, Thomas nods, he knew it was.  
James was searching his friend's face for something, he didn't know what, but something. He looked into Thomas' golden brown eyes, hoping to find an answer to the question he hadn't even thought of. Neither of them realized how close their heads were. James did a moment later, when Thomas gave a soft sigh, James could feel the warmth of his friend's breath easily. He held back a sigh of his own when Thomas' eyes fluttered shut, he didn't know why they closed, but he knew if he made it clear to Thomas how close they were he'd quickly move away, back to the chair. James didn't want that to happen, he wanted to be closer. And soon he was. Their foreheads were almost touching, but James was careful to make sure they weren't.


	3. Lire mes pensées

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Thomas' perspective to progress things. Nothing bad happens of course. Thomas is just a dick, I was gonna write heartless dick, but the problem is he isn't heartless, the man has too much heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lire mes pensées" Is french for "read my thoughts" but the chapter is named after the Killers song "Resd My Mind" and google translate was being a bitch

Thomas felt James' eyes on him, he felt like he was looking for something that was lost. As soon as James' soft dark eyes were looking into his he sighed softly, lightly, for no reason really, just letting out the breath he was unaware of holding. But quickly James' gaze was too much, and Thomas softly closed his eyes, he knew that without his eyes to look at James was left wondering. He felt James' warm breath coming closer, but ignored it, thinking nothing of it. He was also ignoring the sudden bottomless feeling in his stomach, it wasn't something new. He felt it when James hugged him, when James took his hand the first time, not to mention the countless times he spoke to James on the phone and just hearing his voice created butterflies in his stomach. Thomas leaned into the heat of James' breath, slightly surprised to feel their foreheads touch not even a second later.  
The feeling of the closeness, the feeling of knowing James was right there, knowing exactly where he was with his eyes squeezed shut. It was all so comforting. All so foreign yet so well known. His stomach calmed, but his heartbeat made up for that, with how close James was Thomas was convinced his friend could feel it, hear it.  
Then Thomas felt James' lips gently touch his own, and within a second Thomas was kissing him back just as gently. James didn't let go of Thomas' hand, he held it tighter actually, while his free arm wrapped around Thomas' torso. Thomas felt so warm, comfortable, safe, calm, so suddenly, just from the gentle yet tight embrace from his friend. Moments ago Thomas' head was drowning with thoughts, but his friend was some how able to erase every one of them. All Thomas ever needed was someone to be calm and cool when he was freaking out. Someone that was his voice of reason when he just wanted to scream. And James was that person. James was like the human version of a tranquilizer for Thomas. But the amount of calm James had installed in the moment was amazing. Thomas hadn't felt that... he couldn't think of the word... that blissful, in years, in seven and a half years to be exact.  
But the soft moment was too quickly over. James pulled away, pulled his arm off of him, but keeping a hold of his hand. Thomas opened his eyes to seeing James' smiling face, but every happy peaceful feeling he had a second ago disappeared, he quickly pulled his hand from James', he stood, stumbling over to the chair again, not looking at James.  
He didn't know what snapped, or what clicked, he just knew he felt the opposite of what he just felt. He felt cold, he felt angry, he felt alone. He couldn't name everything he felt. But he knew it was there.  
"Are you alright?" James asks, Thomas could hear the worry in his tone but he ignored it, he didn't look up at him, but he shook my head.  
"How the fuck could I be alright?" Thomas asks in a dangerously calm voice, he looked at James now, the sadness in his friend's face almost hurt. Almost. Thomas let the words hang in the air, he knew James wouldn't respond, he knew James would be quiet until he had said something more. James knew him so well. James knew that he had more to say, or that he just needed a moment of quiet to let his thoughts settle. Either way, Thomas knew that James knew and somehow that fact hurt. He didn't know why he felt so... so hurt, he didn't know why he felt anything that he had in the last few minutes. All he knew was his best friend just kissed him and it felt so perfect but now he was angry, or something. The longer he spent trying to chase his feelings the further from the subject at hand he got. "You just kissed me!" Thomas yelled, mentally hitting himself, of course James knew that, why'd he yell that? Of all the things he could yell at him, he yelled the only hung he knew from the last few minutes. "You kissed me and...! why'd you kiss me?! Why'd you think that would be fine?! How... how am I supposed to react...?" He was yelling, but then was whispering, the change of volume was sudden, he was confused, but James was always had an answer for him, always was able to help Thomas.  
James sighed, Thomas looked away from him now, looking at the ground between them. "Yore supposed to react however you feel you should." James say simply,  
"James, why'd you do that?" Thomas asks, he just wanted to understand, he just wanted it all to make sense.  
"I did it because in the moment it felt right. I did it because I don't have a way with words like you do, and telling you that I love you is easier when my lips aren't talking." James says with the smallest shrug that Thomas just barley caught from the corner of his eye.  
"You... no you don't." Thomas says simply, shaking his head quickly,  
"I don't want?" James asks, He knew what Thomas was going to say, but he needed to hear it from him.  
"You don't love me. You can't." Thomas says quickly, immediately regretting it, because he looked back at James and he was frowning, he looked so upset, he looked like someone had just died, he looked like he was heartbroken. Thomas knew he had to be, at least slightly.  
"Thomas, you don't mean that, do you?" James asks, Thomas could tell he was trying to keep the hurt from his tone but it wasn't working, James sounded so hurt, it felt like a stab at Thomas.  
"I do mean it." Thomas says quickly and simply, "you can't. You shouldn't. It's not right." His expression was blank now, his mind confused, everything occupied trying to think, only his angry left.  
James nods, "I understand." He says simply. "If that's... if that is how you feel, then so be it. I rather put aside whatever feelings I have than lose you." He forces himself to say, God his tone felt like knives, Thomas knew James didn't want to be saying what he was.  
"James..." Thomas began but shook his head, falling silent as he began to think. He loved the kiss, he hated the feeling when they separated. All he wanted was that closeness, all he wanted was James to hold his head and wrap an arm around him. Thomas didn't know why. That's what was hurting the most. He didn't know why. He didn't know if it was love he felt for James or something else completely.


	4. Petite Grenouille Drôle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write happy-ish feelings and I think I fucked it up. I'm sorry if this chapter is bad. Itll go back to depressing soon enough, soon Alexander will become a thing. Woo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title translates to "Funny Little Frog" a song by Belle and Sebastian

"James..." Thomas began to speak, but then shook his head. James sighed softly to himself, God his last words still stung his throat, but he couldn't take them back, he couldn't risk anything if it was related to losing Thomas. He rather deal with the stinging in his throat then lose Thomas, he rather deal with any amount of pain then lose him.  
"It's fine, Thomas, don't worry." James says, fighting against the pain in his throat, the pain in his chest growing. "Really, forget I even did that." He says, refusing to look his friend in the eye,  
"James, it's not, I don't know..." Thomas just shook his head again,  
"Thomas, I understand, it's fine. I said it was fine." James says firmly, fighting against himself to grab Thomas' hand, fighting against himself from crying.  
"What you say and what you mean can be different sometimes, James." Thomas says, James could hear the slightest concern in his voice, it didn't help, it caused the threat of tears spilling to become greater.  
"Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?" James says, his tone harsher than he meant it to be, he stole a glance at Thomas' face, his expression was hurt.  
Thomas was a fierce person, mean to a lot of people without any actual feeling to it, James had gotten used to the occasional harsh tone, it didn't effect him a majority of the time. But Thomas wasn't used to it, James rarely got upset with him, rarely ever spoke harshly, so the accidental tone didn't just brush off, it hurt. James knew this, and god, he knew he already made Thomas uncomfortable and hurt enough, and he just had to use that tone.  
"I'm sorry, James..." Thomas whispers, looking at the ground, oh god, James couldn't stand it, he had made Thomas that upset and he knowing that hurt. He knew almost everything about him, but he didn't like knowing this.  
"No, Thomas, don't be, you didn't do anything wrong, don't be sorry, don't get upset." James says, he couldn't stop himself, reaching out and taking Thomas' hand again, he was surprised when he didn't pull away.  
"Are you crying, Jimmy? Don't do that, please." Thomas says, he slowly moved over beside James, he pulled his hand away, instead he pulled James towards him, hugging him close. James was more than surprised, but didn't pull away, why would he? He was crying though, he didn't even notice he had started to until Thomas pointed it out.  
"Thomas, what're you doing?" James asks, looking up at him, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth,  
"What I should've done instead of freak out. Should've done what I wanted to, not what I thought." Thomas says quietly, James nods slightly, trying to get himself to stop his crying.  
"If this was your intention then you gave a panic attack for no reason." James says shaking his head, "sometimes, rarely, I don't understand what you're thinking. But... Thomas..?" James asks, sounding hesitant,  
"Yes, James?" Thomas asks smiling at him, the sudden change of mood was worrying to James, but he decided to leave that alone for now.  
"Thomas, I love you, I love you and it's the greatest feeling, with you I can be myself, I can do what I want but you still do what you do. I know I sound cheesy, but you really do complete me, you're.. you're like, god I don't know, you're like a picture, or a vision, something unreal and amazing. And honestly, Thomas, you've been this way to me for years, you've been mine and you don't even know it." James says quickly, not looking at Thomas, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, knew they must be at the very least a light red. He was ready for James to push him away, to get up, ask him to leave even. What he wasn't ready was what happened next, Thomas' hand cupped his cheek, moving him to look at his friend, although the eye contact didn't last long, not even a moment later Thomas was kissing him gently and he closed his eyes as he kissed him back with the same gentleness.  
It honestly surprised James how gentle Thomas was, he was always anything but, James expected him to be the same when it came to kissing. But, James suspected there were things he didn't know about his friend, even after knowing him for over twenty years.  
A minute later James pulled away, he was smiling softly, shaking his head slightly, meaning nothing of it.  
"Well, I know it now, don't I?" Thomas asks with the slightest smirk,  
"I guess you do." James says with a nod, leaning against his friend happily.


End file.
